


sincerity is scary

by azumarheart



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Character Study, Child Abuse, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends, Flash Thompson Redemption, Flash has reasons for being mean sorta, Fluff, Found Family, Gen, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Reveal, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Minor Character Death, Post-Spider-Man: Far From Home, Protective Peter Parker, Redemption, Suicide Attempt, and second chances, definitely does not get the love & attention he needs, flash just wants to be loved!!!, his last line in FFH made me a sad sad girl, peter is all about rehabilitating ppl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-07-12 15:09:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19948237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azumarheart/pseuds/azumarheart
Summary: Eugene 'Flash' Thompson is born into a family that couldn't care less about him. As he grows up, the abuse worsens, and he dons a persona to cope with his struggles. But as events occur, like the Blip and the entirety of his summer trip to Europe, he's forced to pull his life together.Not without the help of some friends of course.Basically a character study and a redemption fic where Eugene Thompson is more than just a stereotypical bully side character.





	sincerity is scary

**Author's Note:**

> *Be aware there are references and scenes involving child abuse and suicide. Please read at your own discretion. 
> 
> Far From Home Spoilers! Canon compliant minus the credit scenes :| Wack
> 
> Basically after watching Far From Home, and seeing Flash's last line about his mother not showing up, I just had to write a Flash redemption fic. Yeah he acts like a dick, but that's usually an indication of something going wrong in a person's life. So I wrote a whole character study about him. Found family tropes just... get me. 
> 
> Please enjoy and comment!! Love you guys!

When Eugene Thompson is born, on the 1st of April, 2001, neither of his parents is there to see. The surrogate, a carefully selected young woman, screams and pushes until his tiny body reaches the air. Immediately he is pulled away, set on a cart, and wheeled out of the room. The surrogate never sees the baby again, just receives a hefty check and permanent stretch marks.  
  
His first meeting with his parents, on his first day of being alive, goes like this:  
  
“His nose is... quite large.”  
  
“Well Mateo, yours isn’t the smallest in the world. Just your luck that he’d inherit it.”  
  
“Maybe if you had bore the child yourself, he would have your nose.”  
  
“Ha. As if I’d ruin my body just so you could have a heir. You should be thankful enough that I’ll be staying home with him while you’re off on business trips.”  
  
“As if. The nannies will take care of him more than you, I’m sure. Just as well, I want to make him into a suitable heir for the company.”  
  
“Maybe just... in the future we’ll get him a nose job.”  
  
“And an ear tuck.”  
  
“Definitely.”  
  
They left the room, ordering the nanny they hired to gather the child.

  
  
————

  
  
When Eugene cries, his mother sighs. And groans. And smacks her hands on tables. And yells.  
  
The nannies are well paid, but kind-hearted women. They do their best to sooth Eugene gently and kindly and show him love. Their eyes meet whenever Mateo and Sondra dismiss the child. With a shared look they communicate:  
  
_“We need to care for this child the best we can. Because it’s obvious there will be no love here without us.”_  
  
It becomes obvious, as he grows, that he is smart. Like seriously smart. He has everything he could ever ask for at his disposal, and uses it to create. He builds structurally sound block buildings that still stay together when his father kicks them over. His detailed (albeit rough) blueprints for tree-houses stick in his brain even when his mother walks over them, leaving footprints and rips from her heels. Eugene is smart and he creates in his head and he prides himself on having something. Something he can be proud of himself for.  
  
Because his parents aren’t proud of him. He’s 8 and his mother scoffs at him at the breakfast table when he tries to show her the drawing he made of a 4 story house with inflatable buoys at the bottom (for when floods hit).  
  
“Eugene stop your silly doodles. I have no interest in watching you waste your time playing pretend.”  
  
Eugene shoves the paper back under his leg, and frowns into his breakfast. In order to hold back his tears, he recites (in his head) the measurements of the buoys, and calculates how big they need to be in order to support the weight of the house.  
  
He’s 8 and his dad slaps him across the face during their weekly meetings.  
  
“Eugene! Pay attention! I’m not here to waste my time with you off in la la land! I expect better of you! You are to be the heir of my company, so you need to learn the ins and outs now. Do not disappoint me further!” Mateo roars.  
  
Eugene feels his red hot cheek and his eyes physically ache from holding the tears in. But he bows his head and keeps reading the expense reports in front of him (even as the numbers swim across the page).  
  
He’s 8 and all but one of his nannies is let go, because he’s ‘not a child anymore’. The only one left over is Bertha, a 58 year old woman. She’s the strictest out of all the ones he had.  
  
(The other ladies cry when they say their goodbyes. Cara, the youngest, kisses his head and hugs him tighter than ever. Josephine gifts him a set of colored pencils, since his mother chucked the last ones away. Sandy whispers kind words in his ear and tells him to always be brave and to always be kind.)  
  
Eugene is all sorts of messed up by the time his parents finally allow him to go to a private school. It’s more public than he’d ever been, besides socializing at dinner parties with his hair slicked back, having to shake the many hands of snobby adults.  
  
The first day of 3rd grade, he’s mocked for his nose and his skin color and his nervous tics. The rest of the year follows the same routine. Every day is torment, and Eugene feels helpless. So sad and so alone in the world and it hurts like nothing else.  
  
That summer, his dad relocates the family to New York to start a new branch of his business.  
  
That summer, his dad breaks one of Eugene’s fingers after slamming a business textbook on his hand.  
  
That summer, his mother finds his stash of drawings and burns them in the fireplace. She stands in front of it, watching them burn, a wine glass held in one hand, and Eugene’s hair gripped hard in the other. He’s forced to stand and watch his one solace burn, and he lets the tears roll.  
  
The first day of 4th grade, Eugene refuses to be soft. He refuses to be teased. He dons the nickname ‘Flash’, after the comic book character Flash Gordon.  
  
Flash is strong and ruthless and charismatic. Flash mocks the ‘losers’ in class and receives a chorus of laughs behind him. It’s addicting, the attention he finally gets. The boys slap him on the shoulder with smirks and offers to hang out. A few girls blush when they see him. His teachers roll their eyes, but let him continue, and he grows. Flash grows and grows and grows until Eugene is a small thing in the back of his head. Flash gets love. Flash gets attention. Flash doesn’t get beat up by the other kids.  
  
Flash gets content nods from his mother. Flash is a respectable son to her.  
  
Flash reads the business textbooks his father slams in front of him. Flash impresses his father with his memory.  
  
Flash is everything he ever needed to be for everyone else.  
  
  
Eugene cries at night, cringes every time he says something mean to the unpopular kids, aches every time his mother says “I don’t hate you as much as usual”, and despises the business world. Eugene still stares at buildings and traces architecture on a hidden notebook, calculating measurements and thinking of new ways to improve them.  
  
Eugene is lost.

  
  
————

  
  
High school is when Flash starts to lose speed. He starts at Midtown High, which is full of the types of ‘losers’ he used to bully. And it becomes really hard to keep up Flash, when most of the kids don’t like bullying. He maintains a posse of people who will laugh at his jokes and are desperate to hear from him but... Flash seriously loses traction.  
  
His father meets with him less and less, busy with his company and some issues going on.  
  
His mother meets with him less and less, busy with the new chauffeur they hired. A young handsome man in his twenties.  
  
He finds them fucking in the guest house once.  
  
Later that night, his mom grabs his hair and pulls so hard he thinks it might rip out. Her long nails claw at his scalp and grip his arm so tight he bleeds. With a crazed and bloodthirsty look in her eyes, she describes in detail how she will kill him if he tells his father.  
  
He’s sworn to secrecy, and stays up all night looking up how to emancipate himself.  
  
Then Peter Parker happens.  
  
Peter Parker is a nerd. A good old fashion nerd, with button up shirts under sweaters who always has a pencil to share and extra paper and always answers the teacher’s questions right and is handsome and smart and good and and and-  
  
(Eugene likes him. He reminds Eugene of when he was young and hopeful and full of passion for his drawings. Peter is kind in a way that he wishes to be, humble and caring and so so smart. Eugene wants to be Peter’s friend, wants to open up to him, wants to-)  
  
Flash hates him. Flash grits his teeth when he thinks about how perfect Parker is. How Parker gets attention without asking for it, without working for it. Flash has to work his ass off to get noticed. To be liked. Parker just gets it and doesn’t even notice. Doesn’t care.  
  
Flash hates him.  
  
So he targets him.  
  
He makes Parker’s life hell, teases him for everything, throws shit at his head to annoy him.  
  
Parker never breaks, never yells, never fights back. It drives Flash up a wall.  
  
(Eugene admires him)  
  
Then, partway through freshman year, Parker’s uncle dies. Gossip is whispered through the halls and Flash finally learns about Parker’s past.  
  
Parents who left him with his aunt and uncle at a young age. Who went off and died. And his uncle was shot on Saturday and apparently Peter was there. Derick from 5th period lives right on that street and saw from his window on the 3rd floor. He held his uncle as he died. 14 years old.  
  
Eugene cries for Peter that night. The loss of something so precious, the loss of a loved one, something Eugene can’t entirely understand. But something he can empathize with and so he cries.  
  
When Peter comes back to school, Flash leaves him alone. Peter’s eyes are hollow and red rimmed and he walks slower than before. Eugene aches to see that light gone from his eyes.  
  
A week later, someone is stirring up a lot of buzz in the news. A masked hero called Spiderman, saving cats from trees, walking old folks across busy intersections, giving tourists directions. He’s almost just a weird dude in a weird sweater-goggle-sweatpants outfit except he’s _cool_. He swings through the streets with long web-thingies, and catches a kid falling from a balcony and stops a car crash from happening and webs up some muggers who tried to steal from a young woman. He’s brave and cool and heroic and cool and fights for the smaller guys and he’s _cool_.  
  
Needless to say, Eugene is obsessed. He admires Spiderman so much, a role model, someone to look up to finally. A good person, someone Eugene can strive to be.  
  
Flash starts to come out less, and Eugene makes more appearances. Flash still calls Parker ‘Penis’, but Eugene joins decathlon and calls him Peter sometimes too. He stops the physical violence (god, what would Spiderman think?) and tries to be better. He tries.  
  
He avoids his mother and his father still and it’s quiet at home but it’s okay.  
  
Eugene starts drawing again. He starts to design buildings with his advanced knowledge of physics and architecture and everything he learned while he wasn’t drawing freely. He designs museums and great halls and small apartments and workspaces and big towering skyscrapers with additions that would help Spiderman swing through the city easier. Poles and fixtures that would support the weight of Spiderman (including the downwards force of his swings) and maybe have flexibility to give him an extra boost.  
  
He shows his teacher and she beams at him, finally seeing his potential come to life.  
  
Eugene builds a model skyscraper with his additions (as well as a more flexible and strong structure in case of _another_ alien attack) and presents it sophomore year at the annual showcase Midtown holds. Students show off their expertise, which helps them get connections for internships and job opportunities in the future.  
  
His parents don’t come. He wouldn’t want them to anyways.  
  
After talking to someone, he turns around to see Peter staring at his model building with interest.  
  
“Like what you see Parker? You’re looking at a million dollar design right there. The skeletal framing is flexible enough to account for seismic activity, or further alien attacks, and is made with stronger materials as well. I bet you wish you could come up with something as genius as this! Ha!” Flash scoffs.  
  
Peter looks up, with genuine curiosity in his eyes, with drives Flash nuts. It makes Eugene excited to share.  
  
“That’s actually really impressive Flash. What are these for?” Peter asks, pointing towards the poles and fixtures on the building.  
  
“For Spiderman of course. If we’re going to support the guy, which we need to after all the good things he does for our community, we should actually support him. Creating fixtures on buildings isn’t expensive and could offer huge benefits for him. Some of these are even flexible to allow him to get more speed on his way back up,” Eugene explains, demonstrating on his model.  
  
He almost misses the small smile Peter gives him in his peripheral. Eugene feels his chest light up.  
  
“That’s really cool Flash. Seriously. You have a lot of talent for this stuff. I’m sure Spiderman would really appreciate you thinking about him,” Peter says, with his genuine smile.  
  
Before Flash can make a smart-ass response, Peter is called away by a teacher, and he departs with a wave.  
  
Trust Peter to break down his walls.

  
  
————

  
  
Half the world turns to dust including Eugene. 5 years go by before the Avengers discover a solution. Eugene returns to find his mother married to the chauffeur dude, living off the inheritance from his father’s ‘death’. His father returns as well, with his businesses wiped out to nothing, no money to his name, and no wife.  
  
Sondra stares at him, uncaring, when he discovers all these facts. Mateo storms out of the room. Eugene sits on the couch, staring at his hands, still in shock that he’s alive again. That he can breathe again. He felt himself die, disintegrate, but he’s okay. He’s alive.  
  
Mateo Thompson walks back into the room. He cocks a gun and shoots himself in the head right in front of his ex-wife and son.  
  
Eugene screams and screams and screams and-  
  
Welcome home.

  
————

  
  
Eugene sits in his bed in shock. He can’t handle it. The silence, the lies, the hiding. He can’t keep all his secrets to himself forever. It hurts too much. So much.

  
————

  
  
Sophomore year is over but not really because they have to retake the year. It’s kinda fucked and weird because half their grade is in college now and kids from like 6th grade are their age now. Weird can’t begin to describe the world after the blip.  
  
Eugene gets lucky enough to go on a study abroad trip to Europe for the summer. A vacation, just like he needed.  
  
Flash still exists, more out of habit than anything else.  
  
He doesn’t mean to get on everyone’s nerves but he does. Which sucks. Flash still annoys people, and his posse doesn’t exist anymore. So he fades into the background, watching and observing everyone else.  
  
He sees the clear love triangle between Brad and MJ and Peter. It’s weird. Even though he’s not Peter’s biggest fan (which is deep down, a huge fucking lie), he’s rooting for him. Brad’s kind of a dick.  
  
He picks up live-streaming, even though he doesn’t have many followers. It makes him feel like someone is paying attention at least.  
  
But then they’re in Venice and a giant water monster attacks them and this dude with a snow globe fights him and... what the hell! He leaves New York and still is dealing with superhero shit!  
  
Everyone at the hotel is fawning over this Mysterio guy and Eugene makes it clear that Spiderman is still cooler.  
  
He doesn’t see Peter’s bashful smile from the staircase.  
  
Next thing he knows, they’re headed to Prague. Which is sick. He shares the crowds full of lights with his followers and it’s so cool.  
  
Until they are coaxed to an opera rather than a festival of lights which _sucks_. He falls asleep and wakes up to news that some fire monster attacked the city. What. the. hell.  
  
Then they’re in London, about to head home, and Brad starts to try and expose Peter. Which. No. Only Flash can be mean to Peter. He and MJ take Brad down, and she gives him a smirk as they board the tour bus.  
  
Then there’s a fucking fire-earth-wind-water monster and _what the hell_. Someone he knows is either secretly a superhero target or maybe witches _are_ real.  
  
Spiderman saves the day, of fucking course, because he’s Spiderman and the literal best superhero. Yeah Eugene almost dies in some vault next to the Queen’s crown but dude. He’s from New York, he’s used to nearly dying. If it’s not by aliens, it’s by the mutated germs on the subway.

  
  
————

  
  
They get home eventually and it’s surreal. After all the monsters and drones and shit, going back to real life is weird.

MJ and Peter sorted their shit out, Ned and Betty ended their puppy love, and Eugene honestly feels sad to leave all these people. He walks up to his driver and asks about his mom and of course she didn’t come. Her son was in danger but who cares, right?  
  
He flashes back to the memories of a fist in his hair and traces the inside of his arm where crescent nail marks scar his skin. His mother cares for no one but herself.  
  
Eugene spends the remainder of his summer rebuilding himself and his life. Reading self help books and blogs to help people deal with the blip. He grows. 

  
————

  
  
Sophomore year part 2 starts off better than part 1. It’s odd to restart classes they were already partway through but it makes it easier. Eugene has more free time to work on his architecture. And maybe socialize.  
  
“Hey Peter. Nice shoes.”  
  
“Dude how’d you know that answer? Good job.”  
  
“What did you get for number 8?”  
  
Peter seems confused by the sudden friendliness, and stops to ask one day.  
  
“Hey Flash, why’ve you been so nice to me lately? Not that I’m complaining,” Peter asks before decathlon practice starts.  
  
“It’s Eugene. And I’m just... trying to be better yaknow. Been through too much shit to keep living like an asshole. Which... sorry for treating you like shit.”  
  
Peter’s smile grows until it’s blinding, and he pats Eugene on the shoulder.  
  
“I’m proud of you man. It takes a lot to admit you were wrong. We all do stuff we regret, but the only thing to do is move forward,” Peter says with a painful look in his eyes.  
  
The words feel so wonderful to hear. ‘Proud of you’. Such a forgiven concept for him. Something he could get used to.  
  
Eugene smiles in response.

  
  
————

  
And so Peter and Eugene become friends. It’s a slow process, which requires a lot of vetting from MJ and Ned.  
  
“What’s with the sudden change of character,” MJ says suddenly, sliding up to his locker out of nowhere, a few days after his last talk with Peter. He jumps in response.  
  
“What? Can’t a person grow?” he grumbles, nervous under MJ’s intense stare. She narrows her eyes and leans in further.  
  
“They can, but there’s usually a catalyst that causes it. It could just be the blip, but it seems like it’s more than that,” she responds, always the observer.  
  
He considers blaming it entirely on the blip, but he can’t help but want to be honest. He’s so, so tired of keeping things to himself. Eugene glances up at her with an open expression.  
  
“The blip was a big part of it. Dying and coming back. But also the part where my dad came back to find my mom with another man living off his money. And the part where he shot himself in front of us a minute later. Makes you do a lot of self-reflection.”  
  
He feels weird being so open, so brutally honest. It’s probably not something he should share so blasé, but MJ seems like the type of person who would get it. And it’s clear from her reaction that she does.  
  
“Sorry that happened. And sorry for pushing on this subject. Consider yourself approved. Just be aware- you fuck with Peter and you’re out. He doesn’t deserve to be treated the way you treated him.” Michelle’s face is serious, with an underlying look of fierce protectiveness. Eugene nods, and she salutes him before walking off.  
  
Ned is less blunt about it.  
  
“Hey so Flash...”  
  
“Eugene.”  
  
“Uhhh... okay so Eugene. I’m pretty sure MJ already played bad cop and threatened you with bodily harm or whatever. And like. I also agree with the sentiment. Not the physical harm stuff because I am obviously not the type to beat you up. And I’m lowkey a pacifist. But like. I know how to hack into shit and I’ll make you pay if you hurt Peter.”  
  
Eugene smiles a bit in response, which sets Ned off again.  
  
“I’m not kidding dude. I may look and act lovable, but I will mess you up when it comes to Peter,” Ned says seriously.  
  
“Peter’s lucky to have protective people around him. You guys are really good friends to him. I’m trying, Ned. I really am. Trust me, no one is going to hate me more than myself if I hurt him,” Eugene replies earnestly.  
  
Ned hesitates for a second before nodding.  
  
“Alright dude. I’m holding you to that.”

  
————

  
  
And just like that, he’s friends with Peter and his gang. It starts off slow, with pairing up as partners in class and sitting near each other during decathlon practice. Slowly it becomes Eugene sitting with them at lunch, and going to see the new Star Wars with them.  
  
The first time Eugene goes over to Peter’s apartment, he’s sweating bullets. From the stories he’s been told, May can be pretty badass and scary. But when the door swings open, and he’s met with a huge grin, he feels pretty safe.  
  
They have a movie marathon in the living room. The boys sit side by side on the couch, and MJ decides to lay across all three of them. Peter plays with her hair and it’s cute, and Ned fumbles with where to put his hands, and it’s hilarious.  
  
Ned looks down at MJ’s butt, planted in his lap, and his face grows redder and redder as he flails around. Eugene is doubled over, grabbing MJ’s legs as he laughs hysterically at the panicked look on Ned’s face.  
  
MJ snorts, and grabs a spare throw pillow to throw over her butt, which Ned delicately lays his hands on.  
  
It’s the hardest Eugene has laughed in years.  
  
When they can’t keep their eyes open, they all trudge into Peter’s room. Ned clumsily makes his way up the ladder of the bunk bed, and MJ slides into the bottom bunk. Peter helps make Eugene a bed on the floor out of a workout mat, sleeping bag, and a bunch of blankets and pillows. He mumbles a sleepy ‘goodnight’ with a doped out smile, before getting into bed with MJ. She’s the big spoon, unsurprisingly.  
  
Eugene lays in his makeshift bed, and takes in the comforting mood of the room. He’s never been to a sleepover before, and having other people in the room with him has him feeling warmer than he’s ever felt. The warm feeling spreads from his chest to his fingertips, and he smiles as he stares up at the glow-in-the/dark stars pressed into the ceiling. He falls asleep happy.  
  
He wakes up with a gasp. His chest is heaving and he’s drenched in a cold sweat. Eugene covers his mouth quickly, and turns to make sure no one else is awake. They aren’t, so he scrambles on shaky legs into the living room. The apartment is scarier at night, the unfamiliar room painted in blue light from a nightlight. It’s so quiet, Eugene feels bad to disturb it with his panicked breaths. He falls to the couch, and runs his trembling hands through his hair.  
  
He’d dreamed of that moment. His fathers blank eyes boring into his own as he pulled the trigger. Red spilling across the tile, his mother’s mumbled response.  
  
“So dramatic.”  
  
Eugene’s hands shaking so violently, it took him 6 tries before he could finally call 911. Staring into his father’s dead eyes the entire 23 minutes it took for the ambulance to arrive.  
  
In the dream, his father’s mouth begins to move.  
  
“Your fault.”  
  
He should have told his dad that mom was cheating way before the blip.  
  
Eugene snaps back into reality at the sound of footsteps. He swivels his head around to find May walking up to the back of the couch. Her concerned eyes trail over him, looking for injuries.  
  
“Hey sweetheart, you okay?” she says quietly. The pet name chokes his throat up tighter, and the tears held in his eyes spill over. May makes a worried sound, and slides around the couch to sit next to him.  
  
“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” she asks, sliding her arm around his shoulder.  
  
“Nightmare,” he replies, before breaking down further.  
  
“Oh kiddo, I’m sorry. C’mere, you’re okay. Just let it all out.” May wraps both arms around him and pulls him closer. Eugene instinctively lays his head on her covered shoulder, and hesitantly grips onto the sides of her sweater. The kind words coax more sobs out of him, and he gets lost in the feeling. In the kind words, and steady circles she rubs on his back, and encompassing warmth he feels. It’s been so long since someone has comforted him in this way. Maybe as a baby, with one of his nannies. It’s been half his lifetime since someone hugged him. The thought is so sad, it hitches more cries out of his chest.  
  
Eventually the tears slow, and May reaches carefully behind her to grab a box of tissues. He grabs a few and cleans himself off, no longer face down on her shoulder, but still tucked into her side. He lets out a shaky breath.  
  
“I-I’m sorry. About that. And for messing up your sweater. Probably. Um. Thank you.” His words are choppy, and he has to clear his throat a few times to make his voice work right. She smiles sympathetically at him and pushes his hair out of his face.  
  
“No need to apologize sweetheart. I’ve handled my fair share of crying kids after nightmares.” Her words are wistful in a way, as if remembering those moments. Eugene suddenly remembers that Peter lost his parents, and watched his uncle die in front of him. If anyone is going to understand, it’s the Parker family.  
  
“My... my parents are awful. Distant and cruel. Really I was only born so they could have a heir to dad’s company. Mom wouldn’t give birth to me, god forbid she get stretch marks. So I was born to a surrogate and was taken care of by nannies. At 8 they were fired and I was left to fend for myself. I love drawing and architecture. My mom used to burn my drawings. My dad would slam business textbooks on my hands when I couldn’t focus. Always a disappointment.” Eugene pauses to look down at his left hand, and traces over his pinky finger, which healed at an angle.  
  
“When I started school, I was bullied. I started at a new school the next year and became the bully. I became ‘Flash’. And I was a dick to people who didn’t deserve it. Including Peter. And I’m so sorry for that.”  
  
Eugene pauses, and worries his fingers together. It felt easier to tell this part to MJ. He looks up to see May with an open expression, and he steels himself.  
  
“I got blipped. And when I got back, my mom had taken all my dad’s money, left his businesses to die, and remarried our chauffeur. My dad got blipped too. And he came back and found that out and... He grabbed a gun and shot himself in the head. Right in front of us. She didn’t even care. I couldn’t stop screaming.” May reaches out and grips his hand tightly.  
  
“I’ve done a lot of reflection since then. And I’m trying to be better. I don’t want to turn out like my parents. That image is just burned into my skull though. Thus, the nightmares.”  
  
Eugene feels more and more nervous as the silence continues.  
  
“It’s not your fault,” a voice says from behind them. Eugene startles and turns around to see Peter hovering near the counter. His heart starts racing anxiously at the thought that Peter heard him.  
  
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. I woke up and just... sorry. But seriously, it’s not your fault. I can hear in your voice you feel guilty for what happened,” Peter says quietly. He turns and makes sure his bedroom door is closed behind him, then walks over to the couch. Peter sits down on Eugene’s other side, and rests his hand gently on his shoulder.  
  
“I know something about misplaced guilt. Even now, I still can’t help but blame myself for the death of my uncle,” Peter pauses to smile sadly at May, who looks like she is about to protest.  
  
“It’ll take a long time before I get over that guilt probably. But it helps to have people remind you it isn’t your fault.” At his statement, May calms down. Peter smiles at her again before turning back to Eugene.  
  
“I’m happy to be here to remind you of that. I appreciate that you’re trying to do better and I’m genuinely proud of you for that.”  
  
Eugene thought his tears were all dried up, but more start slipping down his cheeks. Peter leans in to hug Eugene this time.  
  
The relief of sharing those secrets after years of keeping them to himself is so tremendous. A huge weight lifted off his chest.  
  
It’s the happiest he’s been in a long time.

  
————

  
  
Eugene fits into their group better than anyone could have expected. He talks about art with MJ, and more seriously about neglectful parents in private. They like the same scary movies and spicy food. It takes a bit of time for him and Ned to find a shared interest. They both like the same obscure sci-fi shows and anime, and work on the same wavelength when it comes to math. Peter and him watch similar YouTube videos, laugh at the same memes, and listen to similar music. Eugene likes to talk about his architecture ideas with Peter. Peter offers insights about engineering and physics-based problems and benefits that Eugene doesn’t even think of.  
  
He spends a lot of time at the houses of his new friends. MJ’s is usually empty, but her older brother is home sometimes. She’s particular about her private space however, so they aren’t there often. Ned’s house is busy and full of family members. It’s fun for the occasionally birthday and other celebrations, but it gets tiring quickly. Peter’s is the most suitable, but he’s not always home. He’s very secretive and Eugene is suspicious and has at least 5 different theories as to why. But he respects secrets more than most people and he’s trying the whole ‘not being an asshole’ thing out, so he leaves it alone.  
  
The first time Eugene invites them to stay at his house, he’s nervous as hell. Julius, his mom’s new husband, is out of town for the weekend, and his mom tends to not see or socialize with him for weeks, so he figures it’ll be fine.  
  
The other 3 marvel at the size of his house, and the expensive items decorating it.  
  
Eugene chokes down his nerves as he guides them to his side of the house.  
  
His area is basically an apartment of its own. He has his own living room area, bedroom, bathroom, and has a mini fridge. He can spend days without needing to venture out much.  
  
They stay up all night watching shows, playing video games, and doing the typical crazy sleepover shit. They recreate vines and build weird houses out of Eugene’s supplies he has for making building models.  
  
All four of them manage to pile into Eugene’s bed, and it’s the best sleep he’s ever gotten.  
  
He wakes up before everyone at the sound of a buzzer. Instantly, his stomach fills with dread. The buzzer is his mother’s way of requesting his presence.  
  
Eugene glances back at his sleeping friends, before quietly slipping out the door and walking to the living room of the main house. His mother stands dramatically at the back window, staring out into the large backyard. In one hand is a raised glass of wine ( _really? it’s like 10 in the morning_ ) and the other is crossed under to support her arm. The stance is intimidating as ever, and Eugene can’t help but slump over as he steps into the middle of the room.  
  
“Mother?” he asks cautiously. Her head tilts slightly, acknowledging that she is aware of his presence, before gulping down the rest of her drink. She turns, setting the empty glass on an end table, before sitting herself in an armchair. Legs crossed, heels perfectly poised, hands bridged in front of her chin, elbows resting on the arms of the chair. After a moment of silence, her piercing gold eyes staring into his own, she speaks.  
  
“Why do we have rules in this house?” Sondra says abruptly. Eugene gulps, and twists his fingers together behind his back.  
  
“To ensure order and maintain a smoothly running household,” Eugene recites. The words are familiar to him, but they stick like a bad taste in his mouth.  
  
“Precisely. And what is rule number 3?”  
  
“Permission before action.”  
  
“Correct. We ask before doing. Think before acting. Permission before action. Promotion of order through a carefully regulated household.”  
  
The silence after her words prevails for far too long. It grips Eugene in the chest and smothers him with anxiety. He can’t take it.  
  
“So tell me. Why did you decide to invite guests over without permission?”  
  
“I thought it wouldn’t be an issue. I didn’t think you would notice regardless.” Eugene can’t help the bite that slips out when he says the last sentence. It’s something he regrets immediately. Her eyes are steely as they lock onto his again.  
  
“I never wanted you, you know that right?” she says offhandedly, tracing her finger round the rim of the glass. The words aren’t surprising, but they still send a pang through his chest. Sondra stands up, and walks right up to her son.  
  
For a moment, Eugene thinks she might walk away. He’s wrong, of course. She raises her hand and backhands him in the face hard. Her wedding ring cuts his cheekbone, and he can feel the blood trickle down his face. Before he can recover, she grabs him by the throat, spins, and pins him against the wall. His breaths come out shaky, but she isn’t choking him. Her nails dig into his skin, however, which is an all-to-familiar feeling.  
  
“You do not own this house. The only reason you are here is because I can’t just dump a minor on the streets. But let me tell you, I would if I could. Let me make this clear; you ask for permission before you do anything in my house.”  
  
The words are spoken clearly and with vitriol. They burn. Eugene can barely hear over the ringing in his ears.  
  
“Get your guests out of here and get the fuck out of my sight. And Eugene? The next time you back talk me, I won’t let you off this easy. We both know I have no qualms about hurting you.”  
  
Sondra lets go, finally, and grabs her empty wine glass. Her footsteps echo in the silent room as she takes her leave to the other side of the house.  
  
Her hand is gone from Eugene’s throat but he still feels like he can’t breathe. He sinks against the wall, and pulls his legs up to his chest. It takes a few minutes before his breathing is steady enough for him to stand, and he walks back to his room in a daze.  
  
His movements are frantic when he gets to his bedroom. Spinning around, he tries to gather up Peter’s jacket and MJ’s socks she flung across the room and Ned’s watch, where did he put that damn watch, it was on the dresser oh but maybe it was knocked to the floor, fuck, if he doesn’t find that watch then Ned won’t leave and if Ned doesn’t leave then Sondra is going to kill him, Sondra is going to hurt his friends, where’s the fucking watch, _where is the fucking wa_...  
  
“Eugene!” Peter yells, finally snapping him out of his panicked search. Eugene focuses back to reality, with his chest heaving and hands shaking violently. Ned is sitting up in bed, with furrowed brows over his sleepy eyes. MJ has partially slid out of bed, one foot to the floor, frizzy hair, and the look of someone trying to not intimidate a scared animal. Peter stands in front of Eugene, steady concern and calmness written in every inch of his body, as he holds his hands out gently towards the panicking boy.  
  
Eugene can’t form words, just stuttered out sounds. His breathing isn’t slowing and his fingers feel tingly and the watch-  
  
“Hey. Hey, you’re okay. Can I touch you?” Peter says resolutely, with earnest eyes. Eugene nods slowly, and Peter grabs both of his hands. He’s led to the corner of his bed, and he perches on the edge. Peter climbs onto the ottoman at the foot of the bed on his knees, still holding Eugene’s hands.  
  
“Okay. I want you to follow my breathing. Nice and easy. I’ll count, and all you have to do is follow what I do okay?”  
  
Peter brings one of Eugene’s hands to his chest, and starts taking slow deep breaths while counting. Through the static noise in Eugene’s mind, he wills himself to focus on the task at hand.  
  
Although it takes a few minutes, his breathing slowly evens out, and he feels calm enough to think. He blinks a few times, then slowly pulls his hands back and into his lap. Looking around, he sees that Ned has migrated to sit on the opposite corner of the bed, and MJ has moved to stand behind Peter. Her hand works at the hem of her sweater, an anxious habit of hers that he’s picked up on.  
  
“I’m. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean-“ Eugene starts, but is quickly cut off.  
  
“Dude. No apologizing for things out of your control. I get anxiety attacks all the time; we’ve all seen the worst of it. Consider yourself lucky actually. I once punched Peter in the nose on accident when he tried to touch me,” MJ snorts. Eugene laughs shakily too at the mental image.  
  
“For real, there’s no need to be sorry. What caused you to panic in the first place? You seemed to be looking for something,” says Peter.  
  
“I just spoke to my mom. And uh. I didn’t ask if you could come over and so I got in trouble. Aka you guys should leave as soon as you can.” Eugene’s eyes track over the room to try and find more of his friends’ belongings.  
  
“Oh. That’s no problem. Why were you so freaked out though?” Ned asks. MJ grimaces, well aware of the unhealthy household Eugene was born into. Peter looks up in worry as well.  
  
“Uh well. Let’s just say there was some threats involved. And maybe some physical stuff in there as well. I kinda freaked and ran in here to try and get you guys out quick. I don’t want her to do anything to you.” Eugene says, trying to brush over the seriousness of the situation.  
  
“Physical stuff?” Peter questions. His posture straightens out, as if he’s ready to go fight. _Always a savior_.  
  
“Nothing too bad. I’ve had worse at least. But anyways, not to kick you out, but it’d probably be smart for you guys to head out.”  
  
“Are you sure you’re good? Both mentally and with staying here with your mom?” MJ responds.  
  
“I’ll be fine. Seriously I will. Thank you guys for coming over and helping me through that. I seriously had a lot of fun. I really appreciate you all.” Eugene feels his face flush, as his friends give him fond smiles.  
  
“We appreciate you too Eugene. Call us if you need anything okay? Anytime, anyplace,” Peter says.  
  
They pack up their things and head out, catching a ride with Eugene’s new chauffeur (thankfully, a married older man, with no intentions of fucking his mom).  
  
As Eugene lays in bed, the silence more pressing than usual, he thinks:  
  
_I really need to get out of this house._

  
  
————

  
  
Two weeks later, and Eugene finds himself in the living room once again. His mother has lost the collected stillness of her usual lecturing persona.  
  
She’s raging.  
  
“God! You worthless fucking child! This is all your fault, I fucking know it is,” she yells, pacing furiously around the carpet. Eugene’s nails dig into the seat of the couch under him.  
  
Her husband, Julius, had brought over divorce papers with the news he was leaving for California. Something about following his dreams and not being the ‘family type’. Sondra had been in a rage ever since. Eugene had been unfortunate enough to pass by during the end of this, and was shoved to the couch before she began to pace.  
  
“He loved me, I know he did. Who wouldn’t? I am beautiful and I have money and I am powerful. There’s no other explanation than his ‘not the family type’ comment. The only reason we are a family is because of you being the fucking child! God I wish you were never born! I wish you never came back from the blip!” Sondra brakes out into angry screeches, before storming up to Eugene. Her hand shoots out and grips the front of his shirt, before throwing him to the ground. His head smacks against the side table, and he winces.  
  
“I hate you! I hate you so much,” she yells. Before Eugene can scurry backwards, Sondra reaches out to fist his hair, and is pulled up towards her. Her other hand comes down and punches him in the face, right over his cheekbone and eye. A second later, she backhands him, leaving another bloody cut right under the fading pink line left by her last hit two weeks previously. Using the hand in his hair, she throws him back down to the ground.  
  
Eugene lay, facing the ceiling, tears pouring out of his eyes, as the pain settles in. She kicks at his side, knocking the breath out of him for a moment, before perching one foot on his chest. Leaning down, she stares him straight in the eyes.  
  
“I swear to god Eugene, I wish you would just die. I want you out of my life. Fuck.”  
  
Sondra raises herself back up, and begins to leave the room.  
  
“I’m taking a vacation. Don’t ruin my house. Or just die maybe. I don’t really care at this point. Don’t expect to see me for a while. Maybe ever again.”  
  
Eugene hitches out sobs as soon as her door slams. He curls into himself, holding his bruised side and face, and lets the tears pour.

  
  
————

  
He hates himself too. He really does.  
  
His dad hated him when he was alive. His mom wants to kill him now. His nannies all left, and they were all paid to care about him. Peter is probably just too nice to admit that he still hates him. Hates Flash. MJ probably hates him too, and just finds it funny to laugh at him. Ned and him barely have anything in common in the first place. May Parker probably just wanted Eugene to go back to bed so she could sleep that one night. They all hate him.  
  
He hates himself. So he tidies up his room, puts on his favorite Spiderman jacket, and leaves the house.  
  
He walks and walks and walks.  
  
He walks.  
  
The Queenboro Bridge stands tall and busy in front of him. He walks about halfway across the bridge, before stopping and looking out into the water. The night is cool, and the twinkling lights of New York leave pretty streaks through the water. A bicyclist zooms behind him, making his breath catch, and heart pound harder.  
  
He makes up his mind.  
  
Checking to make sure no one is in sight, besides the speeding cars behind him, he throws his legs over the railing. Suddenly, everything feels a lot more real. The foot or two of metal between him and the open air, and the tight grip of his shaking hands on the railing behind him. Tears are silently pouring down his face, and he knees feel so wobbly. So fucking wobbly.  
  
Why is he doing this? Fuck he doesn’t want to do this. He’s terrified of death, he doesn’t want to go out this way. He wants to see his friends, he knows they don’t really hate him, he knows deep down he deserves better. Staring down at the dark water below, he reminds himself that things can get better. Things will get better.  
  
Eugene twists one hand around so he can pull himself back over the railing. He twists to the side and  
  
his  
foot  
slips.  
  
The sudden drop of his weight, mixed with the sweaty palm grip of his hands pulls him down. One second, he’s on the ledge. In the next, he’s free falling through air. He screams as the wind whips his hair, he can barely think, panic overriding everything. He’s going to die, he’s going to die, he’s going to hit the water and never come up, he didn’t want this, he-  
  
A strong weight slams into Eugene’s side and grips him. Suddenly, he’s not falling down, but soaring sideways through the air. With a choked out gasp, he realizes Spiderman is the one holding onto him. His mind is full of white noise until he’s jolted as Spiderman lands and sets him on his feet. Eugene collapses immediately to the ground.  
  
He’s brought them to the grassy area near the bottom of the bridge, where he can hear the water sloshing up against the shore. There’s nobody around.  
  
His hands feel numb, but so does the rest of his body. Everything feels trembly and his head feels like it’s floating, and his thoughts are still white noise. Vaguely, he thinks there might still be tears running down his face.  
  
“Hey are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?” the masked man asks, crouching down by Eugene’s side. It’s so dark here, he can barely make out the colors of Spiderman’s outfit. He shakes his head slowly, and Spiderman’s eyes narrow a bit.  
  
“Sorry I can’t really see you. Hang on one sec,” he says, before pulling a mechanical spider off his chest. He murmurs something, and the spider starts to fly. It hovers above them, high enough that the buzzing sound isn’t too loud. A light suddenly flicks on, and Eugene can finally see Spiderman. The superhero looks down from the drone to repeat his question.  
  
“Anyways, as I was saying, are you oka-“ he cuts off abruptly. Eugene’s chest is still pounding, and the sudden stop in conversation doesn’t help.  
  
“E-eugene?” Spiderman whispers softly, almost broken. Eugene’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. How does Spiderman know his name?  
  
“U-uh, um, yeah?” Eugene responds, his voice cracking. The man in front of him seems to be frozen.  
  
“You. You just tried to. But. _Eugene_.”

The words are heartfelt and pained and Eugene is so confused. Why does Spiderman seem to be taking this so personally?  
  
Before he can question even further, Spiderman reaches up and pulls his mask off. And suddenly, he’s looking into the eyes of the one and only Peter Parker. His friend. Spiderman. Peter.  
  
The disconnect is so jarring, Eugene has to blink for a few moments before understanding what he’s seeing.  
  
“Peter?! What?! I, you, what? But, if. Huh?” Eugene’s mind is _spinning_ , trying to piece together every suspicious thing Peter has done, and every time that he’s come in contact with Spiderman. God, it makes so much _sense_. The disappearing acts, the Stark Internship, the Lincoln Memorial, and Peter’s behavior on the Europe trip.  
  
His friend is Spiderman. His idol. _What the fuck_.  
  
“Holy fuck Peter. You’re Spiderman. That’s... that’s amazing,” he says in awe. Peter’s expression doesn’t change from the heartbroken look, and it makes Eugene nervous all over again.  
  
“Eugene. Why-why did you jump off the bridge? Why would you-why would you try to kill yourself? If I hadn’t been there, y-you would have _died_. I don’t want to lose you.”  
  
The words are choked and painful, as tears start falling from Peter’s eyes. He looks so sad, so genuinely sad, and Eugene can’t help but start crying again too.  
  
“I-I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I really didn’t. I was trying to climb back over the rail and slipped. I wanted to go home to you guys. But I was falling and I thought I was going to die for real and-“ his voice cuts out as his words grow strained, and he starts openly sobbing.  
  
Peter dives forward and pulls Eugene into a tight embrace. Eugene grabs onto him desperately, needing to feel grounded. It takes a long while for both boys to calm down, and Peter pulls away slowly.  
  
“Seriously Eugene. You mean a lot to me okay? Never think otherwise. No matter what you did in your past, you’ve proved that you can change and I believe that you’re a good person. Please know I’m always here for you.”  
  
The words hit hard, and Eugene feels more tears spill over. He nods his head softly and whispers:  
  
“Okay.”

  
  
————

  
  
They walk into Peter’s apartment quietly, even though it’s barely 8 at night.  
  
“Welcome home Peter! You alright honey? I heard on the news that you saved someone jumping from the bridge. Did you get them somewhere safe for-“  
  
May’s words cut off when she turns around to see the boys. Both are pale and hunched into themselves. Peter has Eugene’s hand in a tight grip, as if he’s afraid the other boy will float away.  
  
“Oh. Oh no sweetie. C’mere,” she says in a quiet voice. In a few strides, she walks over to the boys, and wraps Eugene up in a tight hug. Peter still doesn’t let go of his hand, and uses his other hand to cradle the backside of Eugene’s. The tears come again in little hiccuping sounds, as May rubs her hand in circles on his back. The feeling is so maternal, so warm and loving and cozy and kind, and he feels so _loved_. She rocks him softly, whispering soft words of comfort. Peter traces shapes on the back of his hand.  
  
God, he almost lost this.  
  
May coaxes the boys to the sofa, and puts on some soft music, while she goes and makes them some warm tea. Eugene is half-tucked into Peter’s side, and they’re silent with the weight of what the day had brought them.  
  
“So Spiderman, huh,” Eugene asks, trying to break the silence. Peter laughs a bit in response.  
  
“Yeah. Since freshman year. Woo-hoo,” he responds, without the enthusiasm his words imply.  
  
“It makes sense now really. Why’re you’re always dipping out during class and practice. I’m kind of embarrassed of how many times I fanboyed over Spiderman right in front of you.”  
  
Peter laughs a bit harder at that comment.  
  
“Yeah, no gonna lie, it was always pretty funny when that happened. You complimented Spiderman once, then turned around and called me Penis, and it took everything in me to not laugh out loud.”  
  
“So that means... you went to space? And the ‘night monkey’ in Europe was you? Oh shit, and Liz’s dad tried to kill you. Wait, so did you know Tony Stark?” Eugene asks. The mood drops back into a somber one. Peter’s expression grows pained and Eugene immediately regrets his words.  
  
“Yeah. Yeah I did. Tony was a mentor to me, he helped me a lot. Both with being a superhero and life in general. He warned me not to follow him to space and I did. And he held me in his arms as I died. I got to hug him once more before he... before he sacrificed himself.”  
  
Peter’s eyes grow watery, and he clears his throat a few times before continuing.  
  
“He was like a father to me. Genuinely. God I miss him. There’s a reminder everywhere I go.”  
  
“But it’s getting better. Having people to talk to and have fun with helps. I visit Pepper and Morgan sometimes on the weekend. I see so much of him in her.”  
  
“But anyways. That’s the gist of it. Feel free to continue asking questions. Ned’s asked about every question possible, and still fanboys every time I tell him something.”  
  
Eugene grips Peter’s hand this time, and smiles sadly at him. Peter gives one in response.  
  
May comes in with the mugs and they sit and drink.  
  
Eugene tells them the details. How his childhood was rough. The way his mother speaks to him. The abuse. Verbal. Physical. The thoughts in his head. The persona of Flash. How he hates himself now. How he’s always hated himself. How, at 8 years, he would scratch at his legs till they started to bleed. How, at 12, he would do worse things to himself.  
  
How this wasn’t his first trip to the Queensboro Bridge at night.  
  
There’s tears and soft touches, and words of support and love.  
  
Eugene feels, finally, for once, like things might be okay. That he has people who care about him supporting him.  
  
He has a family.

  
  
————

  
  
May helps him emancipate himself. She made many contacts after the blip and all work she did trying to help the influx of homelessness and displacement. It’s not hard to find a reliable person to help Eugene get out of his home.

May lets him stay in their home, on the top bunk of Peter’s bed. In lieu of rent (which Eugene stubbornly demands that he pay), he cooks dinner most nights. Turns out he's a pretty good cook.  
  
He starts working at the shelter on weekends, alongside May and Peter.  
  
MJ lets him make crafts with her and gives him a portion of her Etsy proceeds.  
  
Eugene officially joins the Associates of Spiderman Squad, as Ned as deems them. When Ned comes out with that name, MJ lets out her signature deadpan stare.  
  
“I’m so excited. I can’t believe I’m apart of Spiderman’s ASS.”  
  
Eugene laughs so hard he snorts soda out of his nose. His eyes water at the carbonation, and his nose burns, but it’s worth it for the resounding cackling from the rest of his friends.

Finally, he found a home. A future. Friends. A family.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed!! I spent the past few weeks nonstop writing and planning for this, including at work heheh oops. Please let me know if you liked it! 
> 
> Also sorry it's been ages since my last post. I have a horrible habit of getting halfway through a story and bailing. But with enough persistence, maybe I'll post more!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Glow in the Dark Band-Aids and Smooth Jazz](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19980247) by [floralhearts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/floralhearts/pseuds/floralhearts)




End file.
